Ragdoll Ch. 01

Brentwood finished a few more actions and then closed his Net unit. He looked up casually, and then spoke to the German in a calm businesslike tone. Perhaps it was a question - I could not be certain, but Brentwood's eyes were intense as he glanced once at me, and then focused fully on the German. I felt a hand touch lightly against my hair, and begin to stroke softly. Apparently there was more to discuss, for the conversation continued for several minutes. I fell asleep...

I woke to find Brentwood hauling me up, his grip on my left arm so tight it hurt. I wobbled a little but he drew me to his side and supported me there, while offering a graceful gesture to the German to precede us - it was over and time for him to go - this much was clear to me though everything still seemed not quite real in my half wakened state. We proceeded into Brentwood's office proper where they shook hands and then the German departed.

Brentwood drew the door closed and only slightly eased his grip upon my arm.

I looked at him and saw a grim expression as if he was angry, yet I did not know why. I thought I had done just as he had instructed, to the letter.

"What did I?" was all I had a chance to say before he pulled me along toward the front of his desk.

He cleared most of its surface with a single sweep of his arm, scattering things everywhere. I heard the sound of something I suspected was very expensive breaking. He faced me toward his desk and then propelled me forward onto it jamming my hips and pelvis against the hardwood edge, forcing me to bend over, pushing my breasts and stomach down against the desktop.

I kept my chin from banging the wood by splaying my hands out to cushion the impact, then frantically braced them, grasping the opposite edge of the desktop near Brentwood's chair.

I felt my dress being peeled up over my ass and hips and then cool air between my legs as my pantyhose were jerked roughly down around my ankles. I heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone, and a zipper unzipped. Suddenly, I understood. He wanted me - intensely.

I could see the image in my mind: me, bent over his desk, my heart shaped ass presented to him, the pink folds of my sex exposed and vulnerable - a pretty doll posed on long delicate legs tapering down to slender ankles and tangled hose, all balanced precariously upon blatantly sexualized platform heels.

He took me then, brutally thrusting himself into my pussy. I felt the heat of his body as his muscled hips slammed up against my ass. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips and he held me, remaining still for a brief time, before he reached beneath me and sought the silver chain I always wore. He started to draw it tighter, slowly, increasing tension, pulling on the hood of my clit exquisitely.

I made a soft sound and writhed a little, seeking to follow the pull, but I couldn't.

He eased the tension, then tightened again, several times, and then started to tug gently yet rapidly on my chain.

I gasped and squirmed beneath him, not sure if I was trying to hump the desk or push back against him, or both. He was expert. He knew how to read my responses - knew just when I was nearing a point of desperate need, precisely at the brink... Then he stopped.

My body cried out for more, for sweet release.

"Please..." I gasped.

This was when he began to ravish me with no restraint. It was a taking, a claiming, him forcing himself into my body and being such that I would never forget. He fucked me - no other words could express his act. In the end, he was slamming into me over and over like a jackhammer until finally he growled primally and ejaculated, convulsing against me until he was spent. He withdrew after a brief time and I could hear him zipping and buckling his pants. He left me then without a word.

~~~

I cried a little now, back in my apartment, curled in bed, my legs still trembling and my intimate places raw. Still, I felt such need for the release he had denied me, I ached - I could not deny myself. I slipped my hand down between my legs and masturbated myself to sleep.

Chapter Two: Tiffany

Three days later I was finishing a moderate workout on the treadmill. The girls' apartment building consisted of four floors, with a gym, storage area, and a small medical facility below ground level. A cafeteria and staff salon occupied part of the first floor, while the rest of the building was devoted to private apartments. My room was on the second floor. I was wearing a pale green one piece cotton spandex bodysuit with white low cut socks and running shoes. The shoes had a lime green stripe along the side - I was always trying to match colors one way or another.

"I know I'm OCD," I thought, "but, hey, I'm not hurting anyone."

I was a little sweaty and much looking forward to jogging upstairs to a long hot shower followed by lots of lotion and a quiet day in my room surfing the Net. I was actually a bit of a news addict. I grabbed my towel, draped it around my neck, and headed toward the exit.

Halfway between the first and second floor I ran into a trio blocking my way. At first I thought nothing of this and smiled at them. "Excuse me," I said politely.

A girl with exotic dark olive features and very long raven black hair spoke up, "This is our staircase. You'll have to use the one on the other side of the building."

She did not smirk when she said this - her eyes were icy calm and challenging. I could see instantly that she did not like me, though I had never met her before this time.

One of her followers chimed in, "Yeah, you can't come this way."

She looked to the raven haired girl for approval.

"OK," I thought, "so exotic girl is the leader."

The third of the trio spoke to exotic girl, "Come on Victoria... let's just go. She's not worth it."

This third girl looked at me with perhaps a hint of apology in her gaze.

"I'm sorry, do I kno..." I stopped mid-speech as someone else came up behind me and I felt fingers encircle my arm.

I jumped, startled, and looked around - it was updo girl. I had seen her a few times here and there, but I had never made contact with her. I called her updo girl in my mind since this was how she wore her hair. She was a classic blonde, considerably more voluptuous than me. I imagined her accommodating men who dimunitive me would find quite intimidating.

"Is there a problem here?" asked updo girl. She looked at the gathering.

To me she said, "Did you forget our breakfast?"

Updo girl's green eyes gleamed conspiratorially as she pulled me back downstairs and off toward the cafeteria.

Exotic girl, Victoria, called after us, "This isn't over little bitch. You can't protect her forever Tiffany."

Once we were away from the confrontaton, Tiffany released my arm and offered a friendly smile, "I'll explain that... we might as well do breakfast though. You in?"

I hesitated briefly, then smiled in return, "Sure. I could use a... well, what I mean is, a friend would be nice. I haven't been here long," I said.

"I know," she said. "I'm Tiffany by the way, if you hadn't guessed from the threat back there, but call me Tif. I'm not afraid of Tori."

Over breakfast she explained, "Victoria is pissed because of you and Brentwood."

I frowned a little, "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Brentwood 's been fucking her for the past few months, but since you showed up, he hasn't bothered with her," Tiffany continued.

"It 's only been three days," I said.

"Nope. Longer. Rumor is Brentwood saw you in rehab and ever since then, no Victoria. It's not like she's in love with him or whatever, and he's not that type, but being his fucktoy comes with benefits - better assignments, a higher allowance for buying clothes and stuff. She doesn't want to lose that."

Tiffany watched me as my shoulders drooped a little and I sighed, "Great... just great."

"You'll get through it... I'll help you," she said.

I looked at her hopefully, "Friends?" I asked.

"Friends," she said.

~~~

Between specific assignments we were required to spend a certain amount of time "working" at the various themed clubs spread out across the Chalis Estate. We all knew that we were tracked; our time and location monitored carefully. If we did not log enough time and actually entertain sufficient number of clients outside the scope of arranged sessions, we would be in trouble; that is, in addition to our service term being extended and reduction of our clothing allowance, the amount of money placed into our post service accounts would be diminished, and we would be given assignments which we would find least pleasant based upon our psychological profiles and sexual preferences. If a client was dissatisfied and reported it, we would be in trouble. We would be interviewed with bio-sensors attached. If we told the truth and it did not mesh with the complaint, we would be judged on the merit of our word. If we lied, it was automatically judged that the client's complaint was valid. It was harsh, but fair, and it was a powerful incentive for us to do what we were here to do. The result of all of this was that the clubs thrived and there were always enough girls available to meet demand. We signed up via Net app for a particular club on a nightly basis if we had no scheduled assignment. Once a given club was full, one could no longer sign up to work at that club, that night, and would have to choose another.

Tif and I were chatting via our Netdisplays; she in her room, I in mine. We had decided to start coordinating which club we signed up for so that we could spend some time working together, at least until we were engaged by clients. Perhaps now and again someone might decide they wanted the pair of us. Scarlet Brothel and Gothic were already full, so we opted for Bound Kitten, and then agreed that we would meet for lunch; then spend the rest of the day planning our outfits and preparing. Bound Kitten was a light BDSM themed club, and I must admit - I was excited that this was our choice.

~~~

Electric vans provided transportation across the Estate as needed. They were readily available and frequent running. 20:00 (8 PM) found Tif and I toting our bags(filled with clothes and shoes and other accessories) into the staff entrance to Bound Kitten and heading to the dressing rooms. Our makeup was already done courtesy of the salon back at our apartment building. We opted to just use one room so we could help each other as needed.

A short while later we were ready. I was perhaps more undressed than dressed, in a white lace bralette with matching hiphugger panties and a pair of white floral detail closed toe pumps with four inch heels. I had opted for a light silver frosted eyeshadow and clear lip gloss. My intimate chain was a metallic pink tonight.

Tif wore some seriously slinky skintight black leather capris pants, a black satin corset with ribbon lacing, and a pair of black peep toe five inch heels with ankle straps. She looked amazing with black mascara and heavy copper-gold eyeshadow. To accentuate her preferred role, she wore a black cat tail whip fastened to the leather at her hip.

We both wore club signature black kitten pendant earrings to distinguish ourselves from guests.

Just as I turned toward the door and started forward, Tif placed a restraining hand upon my shoulder, "Wait... Do you trust me?" she said.

I turned my head. "Probably," I grinned, "What is it?"

"Close your eyes and stand still," she said softly.

I did so, curious, and sensed her step up behind me.

Tif was about four inches taller than me - a statuesque 5' 9", without her heels.

The next I felt was a firm constriction around my throat, just tighter than snug. I felt my hair lifted. This was followed by a soft click, then a second metal slipping sound.

"Ok kitten, open your eyes," she whispered in my ear.

I think I knew before I saw myself in the mirror. She had fastened a white leather collar around my neck and attached a leash - the other end of which was curled around her wrist and hand.

"Time to play," she grinned, and gave the leash a tug.

I felt a rush of excitement and that indescribable pang which I believe only another true submissive can fully understand.

She lead.

I followed.

~~~

Chance lead us to one of several bars placed strategically around the club's main floor. Heads had turned as we had made our way and I was sure that some few guests had already set their sights on Tif, or me. We accessorized each other - the wearer and her accessory was merely dependent upon one's point of view.

The music was somewhat muted here and the lighting was a subdued kaliedoscope of slowly changing hues - I watched my whiteness shift through rainbow colors as Tif spoke to the bartender, ordering an island breeze.

"Nothing for you pet," she said to me playfully. "I'll share though, if you behave."

I saw something in her sparkling eyes as she looked at me.

She broke the pause by tugging on my leash again, drawing me over to one side of the bar where we would be in view of passers-by. She struck a seductive pose, with drink in her left hand, my leash in her right. She glanced at the floor near her right heel and then to me.

"She understands," I thought.

I melted to my knees with a liquid grace, then skewed my heels to the side a little and sat on my calves; my left cheek a scant inch from her leather clad hip.

Tif brushed her hand to my hair once gently.

I felt the leash glide across my bare shoulder and shivered, though I was not chilled. We were putting on an act. I watched the crowd. "Or are we?" I thought. I needed to know.

I braced myself somewhat with my left palm against the floor; then twisted a little and slid my free hand along Tif's right leg in a light caress - from the ankle strap of her sexy black heel upward until the pads of my slender fingers rested near the hollow of her inner thigh. Her leather warmth beckoned me. I nuzzled her leg, expressing with my demeanor and my gaze to those who watched that I was blissfully content, devoted, sexually charged - needful with my need to yield. After a moment, I eased my left hand from the floor, bringing it to cling behind Tif's knee, and then I tilted my head up, between her legs. I fluttered my tongue sensuously against the tight leather, gaining the merest hint of what lay beneath. I think she nearly spilled her drink! I felt her wobble but then recover quickly and I heard a soft clink as she set her drink aside. She drew me upward then, curling my leash around her wrist, and deftly grabbed it at a point just inches from where it fastened to my collar. Bringing my face to hers she kissed me. It was a sudden, heated crushing together of lips - mine soon parted by her seeking tongue. We kissed... oblivious for the briefest time; our tongues intertwined like a pair of serpents writhing.

"My, my... I think I want this one love," a cool melodious feminine voice intruded.

We turned as one, the kiss broken, the moment lost.

The woman was of mixed race: black and white and beautiful. Her male companion stood beside and a little behind her, his hand placed protectively upon her bare shoulder; a pale contrast against her dark skin. He looked Spanish or Mediterranean - darkly handsome. Her hair was black, short, stylish; and gleamed with a lustrous sheen as she canted her head. She exuded glamour, elegance, poise.

"Come now - the leash please," she said.

She extended her hand toward me, fluttering perfect blood red salon crafted nails in a come hither gesture, clearly commanding my leash be given to her.

"Let me," her companion spoke.

He stepped to us, and offered a most polite and gracious bow to Tiffany.

"We shall return her to you... If I may?"

He took my leash from Tif then, and turned to me, "Come along little doll. My wife is eager to play."

I was impressed by the way he handled the situation. It was the most perfect way to separate us. As they lead me away, I glanced over my shoulder seeking Tif, but all I could catch was a glimmer of blonde, and then I was gone.

~~~

The Kitten suites were equipped with such things as one would expect to find in an extravagant setting which catered to light BDSM themed play. We three were within the Master bedroom of a suite on the topmost floor. Moonlight streamed down through a glass panel above the bed lending its soft illumination to the erotic scene playing before me.

Nyah and her husband, Gabriel were naked, standing by the foot of the four post bed, locked in a lover's embrace. She had slipped her hand between them and was lightly stroking his cock as she kissed him.

I watched, because it was all I could do. I was also naked, bound, upon my back, spread-eagle upon the bed. Black leather straps linked the cuffs around my delicate wrists and ankles to heavy metal rings which were integral parts of the massive bedposts. There was a little play to my ankle restraints such that I could draw my legs up slightly. I felt blissful in my helplessness.

Nyah shifted, turning her gaze to me, and slid her hand down to caress Gabriel's swollen balls.

"So hot, and full... I've been teasing him all day," she paused, looking at me.

"Can you wait a little longer love?" she said to him as she slipped from his grasp and crept up onto the bed like a cat, positioning herself above me.

I watched him gather a robe about himself and settle in a chair beside the bed, his eyes following the sleek graceful movements of his wife.

Nyah settled lightly on my middle, somewhat kneeling, astride me. She placed her hands against me, just below and betwixt my breasts, her dark eyes filled with carnal promise.

I had judged her to be extremely intelligent and controlling, with needs I could not fully fathom as it was not my nature; yet I knew she intended to ravish me, and this alone set butterflies astir in my stomach and caused a warm wet heat to grow in my loins.

"Such a lovely white playground for me," she crooned softly, "And no ink."

She slid her hands to the gentle mounds of my breasts and began to pinch and pull and roll the sensitive flesh of my nipples between her thumbs and index fingers, ensuring at times that I was captured just between the tips of her blood red nails.

My breathing quickened as did my pulse, and the warmth and fullness between my legs increased. I began to move just a little beneath her as she awakened my need.

She smiled at this and leaned closer, bringing her hands to each side of my face, her breasts now pressed to mine, chocolate aureoles rubbing my small pink points and sending tremors of feeling through me. She kissed me, dark lips sealed to mine, forcing her tongue within my mouth, hungrily tasting me... My breath was short when she finally broke our kiss, and shifted, such that she was poised to the right side of me. I felt one sharp fingernail begin to trace a line around my lips and then she slipped her finger within my mouth, offering it to me to suckle. This, I did, until she withdrew it and began to trace a thin moist line from my lips, down along the curve of my throat - between my breasts; ever downward until she paused at my navel, pressing the tip of her nail into my belly button and swirling it there.

I tried to move my arms as my arousal bloomed, forgetting my reality for a moment, but the clarity of my bondage reaffirmed itself and all I could do was clench my hands.

Nyah gripped my delicate pink chain, near my navel, and began to draw upon it slowly; increasing the tension, then easing it; pulling again gently, then easing; again, and again.

My breaths grew sharp and I began to undulate as she manipulated me.

She paused, releasing my chain.

I looked to her with pleading in my light gray eyes.

"What do you want kitten?" she said softly.

I could see the desire glowing in her dark eyes as she slowly slipped her right hand between my legs and caressed me there - light touches across my outer lips, already moist with want. I felt her part me as her middle finger delved inside to explore the intimate softness of my pussy. Her thumb settled at my apex and I felt the firm sharp nail seeking, exploring the delicate button of my clit. Being a woman, she possessed a knowledge of me, my body, that no man could aspire to. I was close now... and she knew, that I knew, that she knew.